


Proud of Your Boy

by RosaleenBan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Claudia Stilinski Feels, M/M, Stilinski Family Feels, graveyard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaleenBan/pseuds/RosaleenBan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hi Mom,” Stiles said, words coming out like a whisper. It had been a long time since he had been here - too long, he knew. He used to go all the time. Every week, almost, before Scott got the bite.</p><p>Or,<br/>A conversation between Stiles and his mom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proud of Your Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I get sad at work & I have free time: I write. Since I didn't have either of my current WIPs available, I wrote this instead. Let's call it a way to build my Teen Wolf headcanon, because I'm pretty sure I'm going to write more Sterek fic after I finish my current Supernatural one.
> 
> Canon Divergence: Everyone's alive (even if they're not mentioned) post Season 2 and Scott & Stiles are part of Derek's pack. Stiles & Derek are kinda dating, but Derek doesn't show up here. I truly apologize for the level of sadness here. In my head, it was necessary.
> 
> The title, of course, is from the Aladdin song that made it into the musical, but not the movie. Do yourself a favor, and listen to John Barrowman sing it if you have a chance:  
> https://www.musixmatch.com/lyrics/John-Barrowman/Proud-of-Your-Boy

“Hi Mom,” Stiles said, words coming out like a whisper. It had been a long time since he had been here - too long, he knew. He used to go all the time. Every week, almost, before Scott got the bite.

It was December already. He hadn’t been to the cemetery since the beginning of the school year. Months.

He sat down on the cold grass, knowing the dew would soak his pants but not caring. He looked down, guilty. He hadn’t even stopped to pick up flowers. He hadn’t had the cash, and he and his dad didn’t talk enough anymore for him to ask.

 “Sorry,” he said, voice low. “I - um, I’ve been busy. And Isaac - he doesn’t like the scent of the cemetery. He’ll avoid me for a few days once he realizes I was here. Not that that’s an excuse - not that there’s any excuse - but -”

Was this something that would happen now? Now that he was in the pack, would he gradually forget? Stop coming? Stop _needing_ her, even when she wasn’t there?

 _Of course not_ , he told himself. She was his _mother_.

He sighed and glanced up at the stone. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice a little louder now. He could feel the tears in his eyes, but he didn’t wipe them away.  “I miss you. I forget sometimes, how much, but I do. I don’t really know how I’m doing this without you. Sometimes - ” his voice cracked. He swallowed, trying to gain some control.

 “Sometimes it feels like I’m doing it without Dad, too, you know? Like, with all the secrets he - we don’t even talk anymore.

 “Dad thinks it’s something bad. Like - I’m in a gang, or drugs or something. I’m pretty sure he knows about the pack - or, at least he knows who they are. That I hang out with them. He knows about Derek - but not _me and Derek,_ I don’t think.

 “Not that there IS a _me and Derek_ ,” he amended quickly. He could almost see the arch of her eyebrow at his protestation. “At least, not like that. Not yet. Not until I’m 18. He keeps growling at me about my age, and he won’t even take his shirt off around me anymore. But - you know how I told you I thought there was something there? That it wasn’t just me?” He smiled, a small secret grin he used to share with her over conspiratorial whispers. “I was right.”

She would be grinning with him, he thought.

He blinked a few times, clearing his eyes. His cheeks were red he knew, and he pressed his lips together and took a few breaths to stop himself from crying.

 “I wish - I want you to meet him,” he told her. “I want Dad to meet him, too. Like, really meet him as a person - not as someone he’s arresting. He - Derek doesn’t have anyone, you know? Like, he has pack, yeah, but not family. Not since…well. I - I know it’s soon, but I wish I could share that with him. Dinner with him and Dad, or hanging out or whatever. He always has to be Alpha first, but I think, maybe he could let that down a little if he were comfortable with us. Maybe it would be a little more like family.”

He looked down at his hands. Guilt was something he was used to by this point - guilt about lying mostly - but it was especially hard in front of his mother’s grave.

 “I can’t though. Not unless I tell Dad. About werewolves, at least.”

He bit his lip. Why was it so hard to say these things?

Why wasn’t she there to urge him on? To wrap her arms around him and tell him how to make it all okay?

 “I’ve been keeping it from him to keep him safe, you know? I don’t want him involved in all this. But what if - what if he’s in danger because he _doesn’t_ know?

 “Can I - do you think I can tell him? Do you think it would fix things? Or - or is it too late for that?” He could barely get those last words out. Couldn’t actually bear to contemplate them.

 “It can’t be too late, right? I mean - we already lost you - we couldn’t -”

The tears were flowing freely now. His breath was getting stuck in his throat, but not like when he had a panic attack. Stiles ignored them, or tried to, as he stared pleadingly at the headstone. If only she were _here._

It was a few minutes before he managed to speak, though his throat was still tight and raw.

 “I’m going to tell him,” he said, as resolutely as he could. His voice was still soft, but there was a ring of clarity to it. “I - the pack is stable now. Or as stable as we can be, I guess. I’m pack now. I can’t - I have to tell him. I can’t keep this from him.”

He took another breath, trying to imagine what she’d say to that. Would she agree?

 “I think you’d like them,” he told her. “You’d like pack - what it means, what it feels like. It’s - it’s like family, almost.

 “I think you’d want me to tell him,” Stiles decided. His mom had always put family first. She would have hated these secrets, the way they were pulling them apart.

He stood up slowly. This was always the worst part. It still always felt so _wrong_ to leave like this - to just walk away, without a warm hug or a kiss good-bye. He could pretend she was still here - really, physically here, not just in spirit - when he talked to her, but never when he left.

 “I love you, Mom,” he said. “Next time - next time I’ll bring Derek to meet you. We’ll bring flowers.”

He turned and headed for his jeep, but pivoted back after just a few steps. “I’m gonna fix it. With Dad, I mean. I’ll tell him everything, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll figure out how to make it better. I promise - I’ll make you proud.”

He turned again and pulled his phone from his pocket. He’d need Scott for demonstrations, and Derek would want to know before the Sheriff was brought in on the whole werewolf thing.

This might be the hardest thing he’d done since Scott had gotten the bite, but he knew it was the right thing to do. It’s what she would want him to do.


End file.
